Flowers in Her Hair
by Secretly a Duck
Summary: Kristoff keeps telling Anna that it's not each delicate petal on a flower's bud that determines who they'd end up with. But as time passes, memories stay, ideas sway, feelings grow, and they find that the love they craved lies closer than they'd think. /One-shot/Kristanna!Modern AU through the years.


**so i've been into writing random au's for my otps lately... i need help. haha, anyway, credits to otpprompts from tumblr for this prompt about person A playing "loves me, loves me not" and i got the idea for this fic from their prompt. it's totally cute for anna and kristoff, in my opinion. so i just had to write this. check their blog, it's amazing. also, special thank you once again to EveBelle18 for being my beta. now, enjoy your read!**

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><p>Anna: 5, Kristoff: 8<p>

"He loves me, he loves me not… he loves me, he loves me not," Little Anna counted to herself, half mumbling as she concentrated fully on stripping the pink petals from the bud of the blossoming flower.

She was crouched down on one of the obscured spots in the playground, in a fetal position with the earth musky and damp beneath her doll shoes from the rain that pelted across the town last night. All the other kids were running around, either playing a rough game of tag or just wasting time on one of the swing sets. Anna would've love to play too, but she had far more important things to tend to…

"What're you doing?" a young boyish voice perked above her, a hint of curiosity pitching his voice. Her head snapped up to the source, twin tails bouncing.

A young boy who Anna found mysterious the first days in the prep school now stood before her. He had shaggy blonde hair that his mother must've styled she guessed, light freckles splattered on his crooked nose, and deep brown eyes that looked down to meet her teal ones. His thin frame hovered over her, head cocked to the side and it brought a small smile stretching over her face, the thought of someone noticing her in the middle of other battering children in their own little fun worlds made her feel light.

"Oh, nothing," she hummed, before looking back down to the pink flower, only two petals left to pluck. She felt him shift above her.

"You're killing the flower!" he exclaimed, sadly dropping to her side to look at the almost bald flower. Her eyebrow shoots up, giving him a weird look.

"What? No!" she said defensively.

"My Ma told me that bees need flowers to make honey! And you're hurting the flower!" he said crossly.

She rolled her eyes. "No I'm not. I'm trying to know if I'm… meant to be with someone," her voice suddenly grew small, shy all of a sudden.

"Meant to be?" his voice shook with question, and Anna couldn't help but feel annoyed with the boy now.

"Yeah, meant to be! Like in Disney movies when you fall in love with someone! You see, if you think of someone you like and pluck at the petals while saying 'He loves me and he loves me not' you'll know if you two would end up with together," she exhaled her explanation, nose in the air.

The blonde boy blinked. "That's stupid."

"No it's not."

"Yes it is."

"Nuh-uh!"

"Uh-huh!"

"Shut up!"

"You shut up!"

"What do you even know about love?" she asked, stopping their throwing of words. He had to stop and think about it.

"A lot, duh," he rolled his eyes. "My family are love experts."

A moment of silence fell between them, him watching her twirl the stem of the flower in her thin fingers like a doll.

"What's your name?" she finally asked.

"Kristoff," he frowned. "You?"

"Anna," she stuck her tongue out at him.

There was an intense ambiance in the air, their eyes sliced into slits as they gave each other malicious glares that some kids in the playground mistook them for playing a fierce staring game. Finally, he spoke.

"So… who do you like?"

"Nod," she shrugged. "He's cute."

He shook his head, disapproving. "He's a jerk."

"No, he's nice! I played snakes and ladders with him the other day and…" she gave a dreamy look, head suddenly floating into space.

Finally, Kristoff jumped to his feet. Looking disappointed, he turned on his heel to disappear back into the nursery to probably drown in carrot juice again, alone.

Before he did, he called out to her over his shoulder again. "You'll see."

And he was gone.

Just like that. Anna, still crouched over, followed his wake and his steps that didn't burrow deeply into the mud of the soiled ground. Pursing her lips, she turned her head to find Nod shoving one of his friends into the dirt, a laugh almost evil escaping his lips.

She plucked the last petal off.

"…He loves me not."

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><p>He sees a flower blooming just outside his house, it reminds him of her.<p>

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><p>Anna: 8, Kristoff: 11<p>

Three years later, she's 8. He's 11.

Still, they knew each other. From distant glances across the canteen or occasional bumps across the halls that were usually bombarded with people that shoved them from left to right. They always gave each other knowing looks, sometimes she'd wave at him with a bright smile on his face, him a small smile to throw back across the room.

This time he finds her outside the gym after practice.

"Hey," he called, his voice cracking a bit because he's just in the verge of change in his weary body, muscles starting to build, shoulders broadening just a bit, voice changing and he still hasn't gotten used to the slow and distinct changes in his body. "What'cha doin'?"

Anna was hiding behind one of the benches, knees tucked under her chest, face flushed as her head snapped up to him, more flustered than ever. "Oh! Uh, hi Kristoff!"

Anna was a weird girl. Sure, she was friendly, a never ending summer day that's smile never failed to blind him with her perfectly aligned pearly whites. Through the course of the years, when they were far younger than who they were now, they bickered a lot and fought about the smallest things. It didn't surprise him when one day Anna pointed a finger at him and dared to engage in a wrestling match with him. He was game, tackling her smaller body to the ground before getting cut off by their homeroom teacher in nursery with the other kids yelling barbaric screams of cheers for their disrupted fight.

It was funny, because after that they'd started hanging out more with each other. It was after that fight, they'd given each other a look, a long one before bursting into full laughter, like the whole challenge was nothing. Instead, they had made a truce to never to anything as silly as that ever again, and before they knew it they were the best of friends.

"Weird question, but what on earth are you doing here after classes? It's getting late, let's go home," he said, swinging his bag practice behind him.

"No!" Anna practically yelled, clamping a hand to her mouth. She suddenly grabbed his wrist and jerked him to sit beside her. "Um, I mean, not yet."

He gave her a suspicious look. "Okay, Anna, spill."

"Shhh! He's coming!" she shushed him while slapping one hand to his mouth, catching him in surprise.

From the far end of the gym came Hans, strutting out in his fresh set of clothes; gym shorts and white shirt, like Kristoff. And as he passed the bench where the two of them huddled as he whistled, Anna holding her breath as he went by.

As soon as his shadow disappeared when he turned the corner, the sun dipping across them from the field with splotchy purple and blue leftovers of day, Anna finally withdrew her hand from Kristoff's mouth, him spitting out the after taste.

"Tastes like week old chocolate," he spat, acting like he'd been gagged for a long time. But somewhere deep in his heart, she really did taste sweet… but admitting that to his best friend—only friend would be far weird than anything he'd ever say. After all, they were just… friends.

"Oh shush it," she snapped, before her frown melted into a dreamy smile. "Did you see him? He smelled so good!"

"Yes, I saw him," he confirmed, almost sarcastic. "And by good, I think you mean feminine."

His comment earned him a smack on the chest.

"Silly, you smell the same. I'm pretty sure you guys in the varsity use the same soap, passing it all around and all."

He made a disgusted look. "Ugh, no! Their tastes are way too feminine than mine, you know me."

"That's why you smell like reindeer dung."

"It's manly, okay? And at least I don't go gaga over varsity players who are more female than they are."

"Nose picker."

"Chocolate addict."

Anna sighed, knowing she had to stop before their bickers stretched until midnight. "Anyway, do you think Hans likes anybody?"

Kristoff shrugged, back slumping against the gym building behind him, the weariness of practice suddenly hitting him like a tide. "Dunno. Didn't I tell you that he's already too feminine for other girls?"

She rolled her eyes, clearly done with his insults to her one true love. "Moving on, hold this," she thrust her small bag up his chest, earning her another weird look from the boy. She strained her neck and turned and began searching for something on the patch of grass and dirt behind them. His eyes only sliced into slits when he tried to process what she was doing, and when he did, he couldn't help but guffaw.

Anna rolled her eyes before they lit up when she found what she was looking for the whole time.

It perked there, nestled between rocks and one of the bench's leg. She plucked it gingerly from the ground.

"You're kidding me, right?" he said, laughter finally dying down his throat.

"No, it works okay?" she insisted and began to pluck. Anna fell back against the cold building wall behind her with Kristoff sitting close just dying to tease her.

But before she could move his lips to spit out a playful insult, she gave him _the glare_.

He put his hands up defensively.

"Okay, shutting it," he said and zipped his mouth like it was a zipper with one hand.

She continued plucking quietly.

Kristoff yawned and stood up after a beat, trying to ignore her sudden burst of squeals and giggles he was bracing for for the last few seconds.

"HE LOVES ME!" Anna kicked and it made him worry if she had a seizure.

_Of course he does,_ he said to himself. _There are only five petals, dummy._

* * *

><p>She spots a flower as they drive by a curb, she's dying to test her fate with him.<p>

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><p>Anna: 15, Kristoff: 18<p>

Kristoff never saw Anna cry this hard.

He's seen her cry when she found out her parents big Christmas present for her and her sister Elsa was a furry pompom of a puppy they named Marshmallow, she bawled on his shoulder when they watched The Notebook in their living room. Cried when she scraped her knee when they were 11, wept quietly when she and Elsa had a little fight. Those were all light matters, and in the end he'd see her wipe tear crested face with the sleeve of her arm and break a grin saying "I'm okay" even before he could move to comfort her.

But this time, it's not the same.

Kristoff started living off on his own now that he's 18, making sure he rented the nearest apartment to Anna and his adoptive family's house to keep close. He works two jobs other than just being a fully-fledged college student now, barista and kids hockey coach on weekends and after school. Anna found it amazing that he could live his life on his own now, but he kept telling her that she'll always be a part of him. But not in the desperate and cliché kind of way, especially now that she had a boyfriend (Hans, bastard he still didn't trust). He said it casually like it was nothing even if it did mean… something.

It was 11pm already and he just finished a plate of cold pizza and he's supposed to be hauling himself to bed by now. But the sound of the doorbell ringing and a weak knock on his door stops him midway.

Casually placing the plate in the sink and taking long strides to his door, shoving Sven's wagging butt out the way, he opened it without thinking twice.

And there she stood, wrapped in a wet jacket from the downpour outside, a few raindrops collected under her lashes and crystalline in her hair, arms around herself and face and eyes puffy red. She's shaking, but a part of him tells him it's not because of the rain.

"Anna, what—"

Before he could let the sight of her in his doorstep sink in, she threw herself to him, their bodies crashing as she dug her face into his shirt. Shocked, they stumbled backward, but not enough to make Kristoff lose his footing.

A lot has changed in the seven years of knowing each other. Kristoff grew taller, almost a foot over her. His body when he was 11 became twice as big, not in the fat kind of way, but his muscles became thicker and stronger than they used to be, powerfully built in all the right places. He would've been proud except for his growing bad body odor problem though. Anna on the other hand, had blossomed into a true lady. Wide hips, full chest, but still the Anna he knew years back. Though he certainly didn't mind.

Her cries and bunching fists snap him back into reality.

"Hans—said-d—s'over, ended—_hic_, never was m-meant—" she sobbed into his shirt, which only added to his confusion.

He eased a strong arm over her and quickly guided her into his apartment, kicking the door close behind him as he cradled her into his arms as they headed for the couch.

"Easy, easy feisty-pants," he said as he set her on his couch, eyes deep with concern. "Breathe, okay? In, out, in, out…"

Anna heaved in huge gulps of air, like she was underwater for a long time and was finally suspended from it.

"Okay…" Kristoff half-mumbled as he rubbed his hand comfortingly behind her back, watching as she wiped the tears and snot off with the sleeve of her still wet jacket. He helped her slip out of her wet jacket too after using it to wipe the grime off her face, and before he could stand to get a shirt, she spoke up again, clearer this time.

"Hans said… it's all over," she muttered beneath bated breath, and it looked like she was going to cry all over again. Kristoff couldn't believe what she said.

"What?!" he snapped, eyes growing wide. Hans Westergard was the richest teen in town, like a canine with a pedigree. And he made Kristoff look like a stray dog that bit his own leg off. Other than that, he knew Hans. Sly, suave, heir of the biggest company in town. And he knew about his relationship with Anna though he warned her, and he knew that this was coming.

But not like this.

Not with Anna so broken and disoriented, her heart scattered in a million pieces that he knew he would risk cutting himself if he had to pick them all up and start patching up her hurts and pains.

But she's worth it.

And he had to fight back the need to punch something hard, like Hans's nose.

"It's over, Kris," she exhaled, eyes slowly being caked in tears again. She pulled on her skirt involuntarily, bit on her lower lip that worried him that it'll burst out bleeding, tried her best to train her eyes on the floor. Still, his mouth dropped open. "He… broke up with me."

Something inside of him snapped, and he suddenly threw his arms around her in a bone-crushing hug. Anna gasped, surprised, but let him hold on to her slim waist in a tight hug. She would've eased her arms around his neck if he wasn't hugging so tightly. And the moment he tucked her firmly into his arms, the waterworks started again and she couldn't hold back anymore.

"Our dates, the sandwiches, h-is brothers—the _flowers_, oh my god Kristoff, the flowers!" she croaked, tears streaming down her face like she lost something valuable, and he could see how she was still blinded by Hans' fake love. "He doesn't love me, he never did…"

_I love you_, Kristoff said in his head and his heart broke, still cradling her in his arms. _I love you, Anna, can't you see?_

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><p>He buys her a truckload of flowers on Valentines Day, and she throws herself at him crying and laughing.<p>

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><p>Anna: 18, Kristoff: 21<p>

"What are you doing?" Kristoff said incredulously before his face fully split a smile and a laugh.

Anna sat in the middle of a bed of flowers spread around them in the usual park they began to hang out every Sunday ever since they started going out. He knew just how much she loved summer, and the feeling of it, and she doesn't want to spend one Sunday morning missing the lapse of it in her face and her skin.

She sat there, knees tucked under her chin as she held the tiny flower hostage between her fingertips, a blush spreading like bushfire on her cheeks. He knew her long enough to know what she was doing.

He started laughing as he scooted closer, collecting his adorably flustered girlfriend in his arms.

"Hey! Cut me some slack, will you?" her blush only darkened when he pecked her on her button nose. "I'm just…"

"Relieving memories?" he asked playfully, ignoring the annoying buzz of bees and the itchy grass beneath him. They've been going out for over a year now, their friendship turning into something a little more and they were thankful for each other. "Didn't I tell you those flowers are evil?"

"Why?"

"Well," he shrugged, legs spread in front of him. "First of, it never works. Like with Nod, Hans…"

"…but it works," she insisted, a petulant pout on her lips as her eyes stayed glued to his fingers playing with one of her braids. "With you, I know it does... because all this time I've been thinking about _you_."

His pulse picked up the pace. "Anna, no matter how many flowers you strip down to their core, no matter how many petals you tweak or how you'll countlessly question our fate, I love you, okay? And I can't imagine a life without you. You're everything to me Anna, and I won't let a stupid little flower tell me to or not to, okay?"

Anna almost couldn't hear his words over the pounding blood and her heartbeat in her ear, her face melting into a warm smile as she fought back happy tears in the back of her eyes before she meekly replied: "Okay."

"Okay," he said back, pulling her into another hug, chin on top of her head, her face tucked in the crook of his neck protectively.

Sure, they weren't the most perfect couple around. Their relationship consisted of clumsy make-out scenes, awkward hugs, imperfect chemistry, but there was one thing he was sure of.

"You love me," Anna said, a small smile inching over her ruby lips as she slowly pulled away from their hug. She waved a flower stripped from its petals.

He smiled, kissing her lightly on the lips again. "Even the flower says so, how many times do I have to repeat myself?"

Her eyes softened and hundreds of colors burst inside her chest, spreading from her chest to the tip of her fingers and toes with the genuine truth of it. "…you love me."

"I do. Always will."

And then he kissed her, again and again and again.

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><p>She collects a bundle of assorted flowers from the field, and she showers him with flower crowns, necklaces, and her love.<p>

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><p>Anna: 21, Kristoff: 24<p>

They've been through a lot now.

Lamentable bickering since they were kids, unforeseen obstacles in their relationship, new heights and discoveries within each other, deepest secrets shared only for their own ears to hear, unforgettable memories made in the most unimaginable time and place possible, a stronger and still growing bond—and now, they're here.

Everything around Kristoff was white. The aisle, the tablecloths, peoples suits and dresses, it was like a mental hospital's inside if it wasn't for the perfect occasion, the designs and the flowers.

The flowers.

They were spread gingerly in large vases across the aisle, like droplets of rainbows that scattered the entire venue that were also decorating the halls. This is what she wanted, what they wanted.

The music begins to play, and that's his cue. He turns his head across the room and the grand doors burst open, presenting his ever lovely bride.

Anna's hair is tied on top of her head in a tightly elaborate bun, her bangs swished to one side. Her dress is long and gorgeous, almost shining under the artificial lights in the room. He feels partly relieved that the make-up artist didn't bombard her face with make-up, and her face is glowing with a wide smile. He watches awestruck as she walks the scented carpet hooked with her father's arms, eyes glazed with love as they lock eyes, and he resists the urge to chuckle when he notices that she's trying really hard not to clumsily trip over her heavy dress.

He's crying.

He doesn't remember how or when the waterworks hit him, all he knew for goodness sake was that, he's crying.

And it's not just because of her and how beautiful she looked, but he knew that after stupid formalities end and they make their vows, all he knew was that she was his and he was hers. And that was all that mattered, she's all that mattered.

The thought of finally calling her his wife made thousands of butterflies swarm his stomach and a hundred fuzzy bunnies burst in his chest.

She arrives at the place she never thought she'd be, and her father backs away after kissing her lightly on the forehead, tears shining in his eyes too as he reached over to his wife and her sister on the side.

Kristoff moved his hands to hold hers like it was his only anchor to earth, like it was the only thing he lived for, and for a fraction of a second he moves one hand to wipe his tears away, but she beats him to it.

"You'll ruin your make-up," she scolded, but her smile is so wide he worried her cheeks would hurt. Her eyes just as misty as his and he moves a hand on top of hers on his cheek and stays there, feeling how warm she is.

"Glad they didn't put too much," he nodded and they laughed, just a bit, before they relished each other's touch once more like it was all that mattered in that moment, and it did.

Anna was squeezing so tight on his hands but it didn't hurt, because he wanted to feel her in every way, and she gave him a knowing squeeze.

"I love the flowers," Anna said quietly, thumb rolling over the back of his palm. He smiled.

"They were made for you."

"They were made for us."

And there, they face each other glowing, eyes glassy, smiles wide as their lungs expanded and their chests just dying to burst from adrenaline and the unmistakable love they felt.

After drinking all that she is, Kristoff leaned down to kiss her, full and deep, and it was a start of another beautiful beginning.

And there, she finds that in the hundreds of flowers lay before her in the ever present church or the millions of flowers spread the vast earth, no matter how many petals she plucks or countless flowers she'll ask or uncountable truths she'll unfold there is only one thing that will always anchor her back to the warmest sincerity that mattered more than anything.

_He loves me_, Anna knew.

And that is all that ever matters.

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><p><strong>and that's a wrap. thanks for reading! feedback is most appreciated.<strong>


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